TORIELLE
It's only me who wants to wrap around your dreams
The woman laughs playfully as her friend, the literal fallen star, a light from the universe, the one whose very essence left stardust in her wake, said that she would not be mistaken for a goddess. “Didn’t I already tell you that I mistook you for a goddess when we met?” The maiden flashed a mischievous grin. “And frankly I’m still pretty certain you are, and just haven’t admitted it yet.”
As the chime of bells hung in the air, Torielle flushed. Her audits flicked in embarrassment as she quickly averted her gaze, grateful that her smokey hues mostly hid any rising colour to her face. Mostly. “Oh hush,” she said, nudging Veil playfully.
“You are beautiful.” Her lyrics were soft then, the oasis of her blue orbs watching the star mare from the corner of her eye, her heart trilling in her chest like a trapped hummingbird. She swallowed the bird with some effort and nodded to the circlet. “That does look rather fitting, though.” The mare offered a gentle smile before turning her attention to the other items on display in the tent.
She lifted a rather beautiful set of delicate chains from a table, admiring the way the crystals fell in stunning tear drops and captured the sunlight, scattering rainbows across the grass.
“That one gets woven into the mane,” the seller explained in a pleasant voice, nodding to the antlered woman. “A lot like your own, though it looks best when twisted up, I think.”
Torielle looked from the hair piece to Veil and then back again before lofting an eyebrow, showing it to her friend. “I think I could braid your hair first, if you’d like,” passing the item so that the woman could take a closer look. “It’s been a while,” she confessed. “But I used to make these hair roses for a dear friend of mine, and I think I could maybe remember how to do them again if you allowed me the time to tangle with your hair.”
She didn’t add that she wanted to see what her mane felt like, if the stardust would trickle down her skin as she moved her locks around, if they would tickle like butterfly kisses. She didn’t think too long on what her scent would be like under all of those heavy curls, wondering if all of the universe tasted of juniper and the first clear frost, or if that scent belonged to Veil alone.
The mare fluttered her lashes, as if banishing the thoughts before they would get too far away from her. Veil was her friend, and she was delighted to have her as such. Nothing more; no, nothing more. These feelings were things that she would cherish in her secret heart, stowed away in a special box just for her in those moments of lonesome when she longed for home. She would not let them bloom into a bountiful garden, roses with thorns inevitably overgrown. No, she would keep them carefully in check, and enjoy what time she did have.
After all, Veil was perhaps the eighth great wonder of the universe- what possible fascination would she hold for a simple scholar woman like herself, who would live only a blink in the stars existence anyway?
art by the-day-of-shadow character by scapeh table by sunny
